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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29752191">While He’s Away</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopetohell/pseuds/Hopetohell'>Hopetohell</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hellraiser (Movies), Night Hunter (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Comeplay, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Sex Tapes, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:47:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>866</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29752191</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopetohell/pseuds/Hopetohell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike’s out of town for the week. You and Walter record a little message to help him pass the time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)/Mike (Hellraiser)/You, walter marshall/you</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>While He’s Away</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[begin recording]</p>
<p>
  <em>Hey Mike. How’s the conference going? Things are ok here. Walter’s here, we’re gonna— yeah, I’m recording the message. Cmon, Walt. Come say hi— We thought you might be lonely so we, uh, thought we’d send you a little present. Don’t press play til you’re alone, ok?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hey there, Michael. Remember, don’t stay up too late. You’ll want to be very well rested when you get home. </em>
</p>
<p>Like this, the camera captures everything: Walter’s bulk slipping into frame, lifting you onto the desk. The curve of his spine as he arches to pull off his shirt, his skin still faintly pinked with nail marks, lifting your ass as you’re trying to shimmy out of your pants and he’s— <em>fuck, Walter, fuck, just tear them. I’ll buy new ones. </em></p>
<p><em>Then I’ll tear those too. Sweetheart, how about I keep you naked in my bed for me, always?</em> Walter’s growling into your neck as he’s trying his damnedest to strip your clothes off all at once <br/><em><br/>Hey. Hey. Make sure he can hear you </em></p>
<p>and there go the buttons; these clothes were destined for the rag pile anyhow and it’s a good thing because they’re all in tatters, dangling from every limb. </p>
<p><em>Here. </em>Walter passes the camera to you; the picture’s gonna be shaky as fuck but like this you can get a close up view of his tongue disappearing inside you, of his teeth so gently tugging at your folds, of slick and spit coating his face and glistening in his beard. </p>
<p>
  <em>Fuck. Look at that. He’s so— Christ, Walter, do that again, yeah, Jesus fucking fuck keep doing it, keep— Mike, listen, remember. Remember the first time you heard him fuck me? So fucking good, right? Were you picturing— were you— </em>
</p>
<p>And Walter picks up the thread seamlessly, taking back the camera to show you wet and shining, holding your folds apart with one hand to see the weak twitch and clench of your flesh. <em>Look at you, sweetheart. How you fall apart for me. For us, really, because he’s watching too. Aren’t you, Michael? Are you already touching yourself? I imagine you’re close. I’d be willing to bet you had your cock out the instant you pressed play. No. Before that, even, anticipating what might await you. But don’t rush too much, sweet boy. </em></p>
<p>
  <em>Yeah, I remember the first time, when I pushed inside her— just like that, open your legs, sweetheart. Shh. I know, you’re so sensitive— and heard your breath in my ear through the phone. How desperate you were, pretty boy. How eager to catch every little sound. It made me harder than I’d ever been, knowing you were listening— that’s it, beauty, feet up on the desk, hold yourself wide open for me— and now you know what it’s like to be inside that sweet cunt; you know the taste and the scent and the feel of it; you know how to draw out a hundred different kinds of whimpers and cries. Does it make you more desperate or less, knowing what it’s like, knowing—unh— </em>
</p>
<p>He’s snapping his hips hard now, one hand on your belly— <em>can you feel me moving all the way up here— listen. Mike. Michael. You know how big I am. You’ve seen it, felt it. Picture me carving out a space for myself inside her, imagine how absolutely, overwhelmingly full she is. Aren’t you, sweetheart?— </em>trying his damnedest to hold the camera steady in his other hand but the picture is juddering because </p>
<p><em>I’m so close, sweetheart. Follow me </em>and he drops his hand from your belly down to where he can swipe it through your slickness, circling on you just right until <em>that’s it. That’s good, that’s good, that’s— fuck, I know you want to. Legs open. Legs open. Let our boy see it all— Michael. Watch her very, very carefully. Look at that— Christ, I. </em>And he shudders to a halt with his shoulders bowed and heaving, resting his head against your knee til he has himself composed again. </p>
<p>Walter pulls out slowly, making it a tease; in his wake there’s a flow of pearly white that puddles on the desktop.<em> Taste, sweetheart. Taste what we’ve done. Someday I’ll plug it all up inside you, his and mine. We’ll make you so full</em>. He presses two fingers to your lips and they are salty, tinged with sweat; they are bitter with seed and he twitches weakly against your thigh at the sight of it. <em>That’s good. That’s so, so good. Look at you, licking me clean. I don’t even have to ask. Michael. Look at my come, so pretty on her tongue— here, sweetheart. Have a little more— that’s it. Show our boy how clean you can make me. </em></p>
<p>His words are so goddamn filthy but Walter’s eyes are crinkling at the corners; his kiss is soft and gentle, telling his secrets against your lips. </p>
<p>
  <em>Do you think he’ll like it?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Sweetheart. He’s going to love it. Now, let’s get you cleaned up and into bed, and if you want I’ll tell you a story, about all the things we’re going to do for Michael when he gets home—</em>
</p>
<p>[end recording]</p>
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